


i had a dream (i got everything i wanted)

by hfszn



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21966532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hfszn/pseuds/hfszn
Summary: 5 times peter and harley found each other in another life and the 1 time they find love instead.
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 79





	i had a dream (i got everything i wanted)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impravidus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/gifts).



> uhhhh for the parkner secret santa (also this is late bc i forgot my ao3 password oop) and my gift receiver is Lexie (her tumblr is official-impravidus !) and she asked for a lot of things that I failed to deliver but, I mean, it's all soulmates and there's a masquerade bit, and some of it is fluff? so i technically did it. but anyways, the main point of this is to be a sampler of ideas of parkner soulmate au's and @ lexie, if you want any of these expanded, please let me know and I will happily do it

**1**

Being raised the son of the king and queen was not easy when all you wanted was a real friend. Harley Keener grew up learning that the hard way.

Every chance he got to venture outside the castle was cut short by whichever guard was closest to drag him back inside just to lecture him on how unsafe the outside world was. They would tell him, time and time again, about just what happened when King Tony Stark got too cocky with his practices and nearly got himself killed for it.

They wanted it to scare him, to make him want to stay inside. All it did was remind him that just because some people are bad, there are always people who try to help.

Everything changed when he turned 16 because instead of getting another lecture, there was a boy his age standing next to his father all but dwarfed in the crown knight armor instead.

“This is Peter Parker.” His father started, placing a hand on the others shoulder and making the other look up at him. “He’s your personal knight. Don’t be fooled by his age, he was the top of his class and more than prepared to protect you by whatever means necessary. But, more importantly, he’s going to be the closest thing to a friend you’ll get. Just like me and Rhodey, he’s going to be watching your six if you let him.”

Harley felt his heart flip as his eyes met Peter’s, butterflies erupting at the sight of his crooked smile. He wonders if Peter was going to be able to protect him from the inevitable heartbreak that came from falling for straight boys.

His father left the two alone to give them time to get to know each other and Harley figured it was best to bite the bullet first before anything else.

He hardened his eyes the best he knew how and straightened his face in a way that his father's knight would be proud of. “I don’t care about how hard you worked, or whatever it was that you had to do to work your way up here. I’m not letting you get in my way. I know what you want, Peter Parker, and I’m not going to let you get it.”

Harley had learned the hard way that no one ever wanted to be his real friend. Everyone wanted to know him, to be able to have his name in their mouth and his connections whenever they wanted them, but no one ever wanted to be there with him when he needed it. He wasn’t going to lie to himself, wasn’t going to say that things would look up if he just tried harder. Harley didn’t have the luxury of getting to believe that people like him got to have friends like that.

He wasn’t going to screw everything up now and let anyone in close. Not now. Not ever again.

Harley watched as Peter floundered, mouth opening and closing almost like the fish he had caught when he and his mother had gone out together on the boat, and watched as he softened his eyes in response, hands curling tight around the hilt of his sword without even realizing.

“I am merely here to protect you, nothing more Prince Harley. I don’t want anything else.” His words were clear, even as his heart fluttered helplessly in his chest. It didn’t matter in the end; Peter was there to protect Harley and he’d be damned if he let something as simple as feelings stop him.

**2**

Peter couldn’t take his eyes off the boy with the sun mask.

He watches him smile, watches as he drapes himself over the arm of someone else, as his cheeks turn as red and rosy as his suit jacket. Peter watches as his steps stutter, as the drink in his hand gets filled over and over again until he’s lost count, as his mask shines brightly under the starlight when he steps outside for the first time that night.

This isn’t the first time that Peter’s found his eyes glancing towards the sun mask. The king threw a masquerade ball every year and, every year, Peter slips in through the open gates and finds his eyes drawn to the shiny masks that scream of wealth and the dull clay of his own. The boy with the sun mask shows up every time and yet it’s like he never shows up at all. His body shows up, hanging onto the arm of whichever suitor he found suited him well that year, but his eyes stay distant and his glass stays full like there’s no other way to make it through anymore.

Rather than letting himself get caught up in the past, Peter finds himself slipping outside to join him, cool air nipping at his nose and, after ensuring that his spider-themed mask is still in place, he leans back against the banister of the balcony. “Y’know,” he starts, a sly smile playing on his lips, “if you’re the sun, I must be another planet in your orbit.”

Peter’s caught off guard by the sound of the others laugh, pitched high and shining like the sun he ought to have been.

“I’m nothing like the sun.” He says earnestly. “That’s a lot of pressure, to have everything orbiting around you at once, isn’t it? But, even still, if I’m the sun, then you must be an Icarus. I’ve never seen someone stare so closely at me before, like you’re trying to figure me out and solve me like a problem. I like it.”

Peter’s never met someone who speaks so openly and he couldn’t help the almost dazed look he had as he listened to him. Icarus had a nice ring to it, didn’t it?

But even still, Peter wasn’t a fool. Even if he was an Icarus, he would not be _his_ Sun. They came from differences, that much was clear from the ornate gold that glittered on the others mask and the dull chipped clay that made up Peter’s.

It didn’t matter how much Peter wanted to fly towards him, he was too bright. Peter wasn’t stupid enough to become melting wax and fly away feathers over a boy who would look at him in disgust if he ever saw the truth behind the mask.

**3**

In a world filled with magic, Harley Keener’s life was surprisingly mundane. Day in and day out, like clockwork, he would wake up and open the bakery for the slow-moving morning crowd to trickle in and out of, flour dusting the black apron he wore while he worked. Every day was the same style, the same mundane people and the same mundane work.

He would smile a smile that never reached his eyes as he handed over nicely wrapped packages of magic touched pastries and asked them to come again tomorrow. The ones who were smart, who could see the difference between hospitality and sin, would decline and go on their way, taking homebrewed teas with them to never return again. But the mundane people in the mundane town who entered the mundane bakery and promised with mundane words to return never even realized the contract they were signing.

But something had changed when Peter Parker had moved into town. Suddenly, his life had gone from the same static normality that he had come to expect from infusing his gift into his craft into something even he couldn’t figure out.

It had gone like this.

Peter Parker had walked in with pure magic oozing out of his pores and ordered a chai tea latte with his head held high and smile wide and cocky, his aura declaring that he was great and he knew it. Harley had poured as much of his magic into the drink as he could, placed a warning smile on his lips and an avoidant spell on the mug and watched as he swallowed the drink down without even a grimace. Peter Parker set his gaze hard and promised to be back again tomorrow.

Harley Keener knew that, in Rose Hill, his magic had been a gift. A kitchen witch wasn’t a rarity in the south, but one with as much power and control as Harley’s was. Anyone who could sense auras knew better than to mess with him, which meant that anyone who was anyone whispered about Harley Keener when they thought he couldn’t hear and snuck glances when they thought he was looking out of fear.

Anyone except Peter Parker, who walked right back into the bakery whenever he felt like it like Harley hadn’t poured every ounce of his magic into casting whatever spell he thought would help. He poured memory cleanse teas and stuffed pastries full of avoidance and yet and still, Peter Parker still managed to find his way inside whenever he pleased.

Harley hated him. At least he told himself that but he wasn’t enough of a liar to deny the fact that seeing Peter walk in just made him want to try harder, to pour his magic out and dominate over the other powerful aura.

And, every time, without fail, Peter would smirk, let his chin raise high and arms cross over his chest, taking the challenge head-on.

Maybe things weren’t ever going to be perfect between them, and maybe every day would be another challenge between the two, but maybe rivals are all they were ever meant to be anyways.

**4**

There were two things that Peter knew for certain.

Harley Keener was beautiful.

And he was definitely straight.

Peter wasn’t blind. He saw the way that Harley interacted with MJ, the way he let himself fold into her arms and be protected. Peter loved MJ just like the rest of their friend group did, but he envied her more than anything.

Peter couldn’t even begin to count the number of times that he’d found Harley and MJ sitting together in the back of the library, faces leaning in close towards each other as they whispered about whatever it was that straight people whispered about. More often than not, when Peter would enter the room and head over towards them, they would immediately stop talking and turn to him with faces flushed red enough to cause Peter embarrassment on their part. While they never admitted they were dating, Peter was certain that he knew the truth of the matter.

They were soulmates. They had to be.

And no matter how much he adored MJ, Peter wanted nothing more than to take her place at Harley’s side. He doesn’t even necessarily want sex; He wants to hold his hand and run his fingers through his dirty blonde hair and kiss him until they’re both laughing into each other’s mouth more than kissing.

He didn’t want to just date him, he wanted to be in love with him. He wanted him to love him back. Peter wanted to be _soulmates_ with Harley Keener and that terrified him.

Peter knew, better than most would assume, how dangerous a soulmate was. Someone who just clicked with you in every way, who was your better half in the best ways and your best friend when it counted. Someone who you could count on to give you their spine when it came down to it, their arms when you needed them most, their heart and soul on days when your own just wasn’t enough.

The idea of being that for someone else was scary.

“Is it wrong for me to want him more than I want anything else?” He asks one day when he’s sitting with Ned during gym, knees pulled up under his chin with his back to the wall, eyes unfocused and glazed over as he thought of the southern transfer student.

Ned had hummed, laying a protective hand on his shoulder as he carefully sought out his words. “Look at it this way: If Harley’s the earth, then MJ’s the sun and you’re the moon, right? You orbit around him, getting closer and closer but never close enough. You follow him tirelessly, day in and day out, affecting just the littlest part of him without either of you noticing. Sure, there are days when you’re probably the most important thing to him, but nothing’s ever going to compare to the sun, right?”

Peter had huffed, scrunching his nose up at the thought. “Maybe I’ll get luckier in my next life. That’s how it goes, isn’t it? I miss out on the perfect boy in this life just so my next self can have him then.”

Before Ned gets the chance to answer, their teacher is blowing the whistle to signal the start of class and their conversation is forgotten.

**5**

Harley Keener is in full bloom in the summertime with the sheen of bronze for skin and the golden rays of sunlight for hair. Flowers bloom from the touch of his fingertips on barren soil and girls swoon at the sight of him.

People watched in awe as he walked the tiled roads, white gold cloth draped elegantly over pointed shoulders, chest bare and his head held high. People told stories of boys like him.

‘He’s the child of prophecy,’ mothers would proclaim, preparing their daughters to be perfectly wed and he would politely decline their hands, wishing them well in their own independency instead.

‘He’s the warrior who will protect us,’ fathers boasted as they ate themselves round and enlisted their sons to fight beside him and he would teach their hands to be open instead of curled into fists before sending them home.

‘He’s too arrogant to care for anyone but himself,’ the soldiers scoffed as they sharpened their blades, ready to point at him the moment he made his first mistake, and he faltered in his step, a quiver in his bottom lip that he fought to hide before people would notice.

He was not as strong as they all thought. He was the moment between twilight and daybreak when the sun just barely peeks over the lip of the mountains and spills forth her light, innocent and raw and pink and orange and bright. He was not the harsh rays of noon where children sought refuge in the cool shade like everyone wanted him to be.

Harley Keener was the soft opening no matter how much everyone wanted him to be the hard ending.

Peter Parker was born cold from winter with skin pale and fingers frail and shaky. He lingered in shadows and kept close to only what he needed. The people say he would hurt them, would ruin their lands and destroy their crops if they let him linger too long.

The summer rays are painful, a warmth that lingers beneath the skin even when it’s gone away, and that scares him. He shuts himself away and reaches for no one. 

No one reaches for him except Harley, who folds his hands into fists when he knocks and waits for Peter’s voice, rough with sleep more often than not, to let him in. He does not mind the cold as much as some would think, but it’s warm when he settles in next to Peter.

“Why do you bother?” Peter asks one day when the sunlight streaming in through the window is warming on a patch on the ground as if it will change the coldness of his home.

Harley just smiles, soft and sweet, as he pulls Peter closer to his side. “My favorite seasons are spring and fall, so maybe that’s why.” His answer is cryptic enough to mean anything but Peter knows better, has spent the better parts of hours trying to decipher the text he speaks in. It’s why he returns it with a sigh, shivering against the contact of warm and unabashedly sunkissed skin as his cheeks flush.

Peter knew the truth. Harley was summer embodied and he was born from winter and they are not meant to be, but the solstices when their seasons meet and eclipse each other are his favorite and Peter doesn’t know what to do with that.

**+1**

It started, as most things tended to, with a summer too hot to stay outside and a boy with eyes too bright to focus on anything else.

It had been the perfect summer. 53 perfect days between the first introduction and the initial infatuation. 53 days of allowing himself to be in this perfect boy’s life without caring if it was wrong or right. 53 days to care more about his own happiness than what he was supposed to do.

He was supposed to be the perfect son. He was going to have the perfect wife and the perfect children—a boy and a girl, for simplicity sakes—and not one thing was supposed to ruin it.

But Peter finds his eyes drawn to Harley’s honey blonde hair and fantasizes about how it would feel to run his fingers through the locks. He watches as a bead of sweat slips down his cheekbone and ignores the way heat rises to his cheeks as his eyes slip down his jawline and across his bare chest because they had both taken off their shirts when the cotton clung to their bodies in the sticky summer heat and tries to fight against the mental image his mind supplies of other ways they could get sweaty.

They had been close before, play wrestling in grassy fields until one of them was pinned beneath the other and their flushed faces could be blamed on exertion instead of intimacy, swimming together at sandy lake beaches even though neither brought a pair of swim trunks but saying that it was okay if they just didn’t look but they both snuck glances anyways until they drifted closer and closer together.

Peter had let Harley rest his head on his shoulder when they waited outside of the schoolyard, his head on his shoulder and body pressed close and he had watched the way that Flash’s eyes are turned dark and his thumb crossed his neck as if to tell him he was dead.

He knew, better than most, the implications of his feelings. Knew that they were wrong, that this was sinful. He knew that if either of their parents found out there would be consequences, there would be fights, there would be a disaster just waiting to strike at every hour. Knew that if the other boys in town found out about how he felt there would be a riot and he could be beaten and bloody within an inch of his life when he crawled his way back home.

“I want to spend the rest of my lives with you, Harley Keener.” Peter smiles at him, honey-sweet as he lets his hand drift over towards Harley’s, just close enough for their pinkies to just barely _almost_ touch.

He does not say ‘I love you,’ but, as Harley laughs as though he’s made of pure sunlight and his eyes twinkle with all of the stars in the night skies as warmth blossoms across round cheeks and their fingers link together like they were made to, Peter thinks that his message was clear.

And when Harley draws him closer and lets lips melt together until kiss swollen and cherry red, hands moving lower and lower over untouched skin until love is no longer just a feeling they share, but rather something they make, he knows that this is his soulmate.

Peter knew, better than most, how dangerous a soulmate was. Someone who just clicked with you in every way, who was your better half in the best ways and your best friend when it counted. Someone who you could count on to give you their spine when it came down to it, their arms when you needed them most, their heart and soul on days when your own just wasn’t enough.

The idea of being that for someone else was scary. He barely trusted himself so how was he supposed to blindly put his faith in someone else?

**Author's Note:**

> just so y'all know: the title of this word document was 'document1'


End file.
